Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Arugula is no longer stalking Puppy; she's stalking me. I'm beginning to think she and I might possibly be joined by some cosmic umbilical cord.

Two nights ago, Boyfriend was lounging on my couch while I was off with The Core mocking the final episode of this season's The Bachelor. Jenni was just about to cry her bobble-head off when I got a text message: "Arugula is still here. And she's brought a friend." Yes, the other pizza place cat Olive had come along to visit Puppy through the window. Turns out they're not as good of friends as we previously thought - or maybe Arugula is the jealous type - because Olive was quickly run off. Arugula then spent the night on my porch and was "MAW"ing us in the morning.

Last night, things escalated.

I came home to mash some potatoes for The Core's First and Possibly Last Annual Thanksgiving Potluck Dinner. Arugula was on the porch, as usual. I made my mashed potatoes and drank half of the bottle of wine I bought for dinner (it was a long, long pre-holiday day). I gathered up everything - including the half-bottle of wine because I am classy - and got ready to head out. I checked one more time to see if Arugula was outside and this time, to my surprise, she wasn't. "Hmm..." I thought, "maybe she's finally given up on our little one-bedroom family and has gone back to the pizza place for more anchovies." Well done, Arugula. Well played.

I walked out to the parking garage to pack everything into my car. I walked up to my silver non-descript car and who should be laying on the hood? Arugula. Somehow, she managed to pick my car out of the massive parking garage housing about 100 other vehicles. That darn cat.

I shoo Arugula, pack up my car, start it up and immediately call Boyfriend. He answers.

"What's up, sweetness?"

"Have you ever seen Catwoman? Not the old one but the new one with Halle Berrry? The one that's so terrible it makes your brain bleed a little but you just have to keep watching it?"

"I watched the beginning but, unlike you, I have self-control. And self-respect. What the hell are you talking about?"

"I think I'm a Catwoman."

"You're pretty."

"No, seriously. I just walked outside and found that Arugula had moved from my porch to the hood of my car. She picked my car out of the 100 other cars and decided to take a little nap. It seems as though I have died an ugly death and then was rescued by a cat. Now that cat keeps following me because it wants me to know the truth about who I am. Oh god, I think I'm craving sushi."

"You're pretty. Go to dinner."

Just to further my Catwoman case, I met Boyfriend and Boyfriend's Mom after dinner for drinks at a place right by my apartment. We were walking back to their car and Boyfriend exclaims "Holy crap, that's Arugula! Running across the street!"

Luckily, it's not bad luck if a calico cat crosses your path. It's actually good luck if you're a Catwoman.

I went home and decided to have one last cigarette before getting ready for bed. I walked out on the back porch and found no Arugula. I didn't think this was strange at all, as she had just run across my path on the street a block away. I sit down, light my cigarette and exhale into the lonely air of my porch. I strangely missed her. I felt like I was visiting the house of a friend but the friend was off having fun with someone else. No less than 30 seconds passed before I heard the familiar and inquisitive "meow?"

Monday, November 19, 2007

It all started a few months ago when a stray cat started coming around my back porch every so often, just often enough to leave her smell so my dog's nose would go crazy when she was outside with Boyfriend and I. Then, every so often the cat would make an appearance at the window and my dog would go nuts. It was strange, though - she wouldn't bark protectively at the window in accordance with typical dog cat-sighting protocol. She would sit three feet away from the window and whine. She would whine for hours after the cat left the premises, crying for her potential playmate.

This happens once or twice a month and the Boyfriend and I are always entertained. "Puppy," Boyfriend would say, "if you promise Mom and I that you can go for six whole months without pooping on the floor, we'll talk about getting you a kitty." Puppy would always look at me, rolling her eyes, thinking "if I can't get him to give me one, surely I can play her." Unfortunately for Puppy, I like cats only a little more than I like babies... which means, no cats (or babies, for that matter).

A month or two ago, Boyfriend and I were eating dinner on the patio of the pizza place that backs up to my apartment. We noticed that Puppy's kitty was lounging in the corner of the patio, curled up in a warm spot by the fireplace. We asked our waitress about her and she explained that it was just a neighborhood cat and that the staff had named her Arugula. She came around pretty often because they fed her anchovies, even though they weren't allowed to encourage her presence in a restaurant. We were glad to know that someone was feeding her and that she had a cozy spot by a fireplace and went home to assure the puppy that her cat was living the good life at a pizza place and would never want to trade that life of luxury for a one-bedroom apartment. I also let puppy know that kitties like milk and that, although I currently had five cartons of milk in my refrigerator, none of my milk was fresh enough to still be in liquid form. Kitties like their milk pretty runny, I hear.

Yesterday, Arugula showed up again and puppy was thrilled. We heard her outside meowing around 2 p.m. and puppy immediately ran to the window and parted the vertical blinds with her nose. I told Boyfriend "well, this is new. She's never meowed before and Puppy has never gotten that close to the window. Do you think they do this when we're not home? Does Arugula just not realize that it's Sunday and the humans are a-foot?"

Arugula didn't leave. She actually meowed louder and, despite our calling and kissy-noises and scolding, Puppy continued to whine at the window for the next three hours. We finally just admitted defeat and turned up the volume on the TV. However, Puppy and Arugula were relentless. Boyfriend wanted a cigarette and we reasoned that if we were out on the back porch, Arugula would surely be spooked and would run off. Such a good plan, right?

So we opened the sliding door, holding Puppy in our arms, and Arugula scampered into the bushes. Puppy's cries got louder and more frantic, all the while wiggling to get out of my grip. I took her over to the bushes to show her that her kitty was gone and she seemed to be satisfied. Until she heard the very loud and plaintive "MEOW" from the bushes beneath us. I didn't want Puppy to catch ringworm or any other kitty diseases so I put her back in the apartment and shut the door. Puppy. Was. PISSED. She pitched a fit, she barked, then resorted to laying down and pouting until we came back in the house. During this episode, Arugula kept peeking around the corner and sticking her head through the gate asking "Meow?"

We meowed back that she was not allowed on the porch while we were out there. We don't want ringworm, either.

For the rest of the night, Arugula meowed at the window while Puppy whined on the other side. When we finally went to bed around 1 a.m. we had to convince Puppy to come to bed and leave her kitty alone. As soon as we left the living room, Arugula could no longer see movement from behind the vertical blinds and quit meowing. Until...

This morning we woke up and began to move about. Puppy lazed about in the bed until it was time to go outside, which is after I've showered and am presentable for public. She jumped out of bed and ran to the window to check for her kitty. We laughed because we thought there was no way that cat spent the night waiting for Puppy to return. We laughed until we heard a very excited "MEOW!"

Arugula was still there, waiting on Puppy. I took Puppy out to pee in the front and I've never seen a dog so fastidious in doing her business. She ran back to the front door and waited for me to let her back inside. Once the door opened, she ran back over to the sliding glass door and parted the blinds with her nose. "MEOW!"

I looked at Boyfriend and he simply said "Wow."

"I know! She couldn't wait to come back in and see her kitty."

"This is just getting ridiculous. I know how to KEEP a cat - you feed it. How do you get rid of a cat?"

I thought about this for a minute. "I do. OR, we're in a Disney animated movie and we don't know it. They should be together to serve some greater purpose and we're the stupid humans that just don't get it. The audience is so pissed at us right now."

"Good point. On some night, we're going to see Puppy and Arugula in the back alley under a full moon, sharing a meatball and eating the same strand of spaghetti."

The most embarrassing part of the story is that I double-checked the lock on the sliding glass door before I left for work this morning. I didn't want Puppy and Arugula going all Pinky and the Brain on our asses and me just handing them an unlocked door.

Saturday I found myself at the Boyfriend's friend's house watching a college football game. It should be noted that I use the term "watching" very loosely as I was really just drinking beer among people who were actually watching the game. Either way, I got credit just for attendance.

I was seated on the couch next to the friend's little sister, who happened to be a junior at the very same college that I attended. We instantly bonded, playing the "do you know...?" game (we mostly only had the MUCH younger siblings of my classmates in common) and laughing over the idiosyncrasies that are as true today as they were six years ago. She was so young, so excited about drinking beer (she doesn't turn 21 until March, y'all!), so eager to hang out with the older folks while trying to be subtle about her college student status. She fooled no one, but there was really no reason for her to pull wool over anyone's eyes. She was cute, fun and fit in immediately. Shows how mature this group of friends is, right?

And speaking of mature... across the room sat Boyfriend's Most Responsible Friends, the ones with the baby. P is 10 months old and is absolutely adorable, if you like babies. I don't, particularly, but didn't really have much to complain about with this one. He was fairly quiet, not terribly fussy, and the worst thing that he did was stick his hand in the bowl of queso. Despite the unusual harmless nature of Baby P, though - I couldn't help but notice how exhausted his parents were. They wanted to stand for 30 minutes when they arrived because they had just driven the 45-minute commute from the suburbs. They were constantly searching for Cheerios, heating up formula, or chasing after Baby P to make sure that he didn't push any buttons on the TV or put his hand in any more queso. He would seem as though he was getting worked up to cry and they would immediately throw him up on their shoulders to cheer him up. All the while I was seated on the big over-sized couch, happily sitting still and sipping my beer.

Out of nowhere it occurred to me... I was smack in the middle of my past and my inevitable future. I know that this is no big revelation because we are constantly in the middle of our own present, but it has never been so well illustrated. Seated to my immediate left was my past self: a size 0 20-year-old who was excited about homecoming floats and sorority competitions, thrilled with the rebellious under-age drinking and whose only worry was how to get a summer internship with no work experience ("Isn't that why you have internships? To get experience??"). Across from me and to my right were two stressed parents, happy to have a family but constantly pushing and working to keep the baby from crying in public, worried about their relationship and how the stress of the baby has affected it, then digging for more Cheerios.

On the left, college life sounded like so much fun and I was a little jealous of her jean size. However, the more thought I put into it made me think about all the late-nights I spent studying only to pull a 60 on an accounting test. I thought about never having enough money and having to work a job at the library to pay for any extras at the end of the month, then skipping Spring Break trips with friends to wait tables for extra cash. I remembered living with roommates and the constant struggle to make 5 very different girls agree on one lifestyle and one apartment decor. I couldn't help but wince at the memory of wondering constantly if I was meeting the standards of my oh-so-conservative college friends and having the painful knowledge that I was living in the skin of someone else. The confines of someone else's rules of behavior. Under the heavy thumb of my parents' approval.

Once I thought about this, my jealousy waned.

Then I glanced across the room and saw the way Baby P's parents were working together for the overall good of their son. I was impressed with their efforts but also exhausted by them. "I know I'm not ready for that," I thought. "And I don't know that I ever will be." And I was comforted by my present, even though the past continues to haunt me and my future continues to frighten me.

read this and the title might make more sense

the word on not lisa

I've recently been described as "zany", "saucy" and "cantankerous." I thought of these as fun descriptions until just now when I realized I sound like a new Golden Girls character who has a drinking problem.
Whatevsies. Bottoms up.